Close encounters

Getting to know Sigmund Abeles

by Leon Nigrosh

THE NEW YORK YEARS: RECENT PAINTINGS, DRAWINGS, AND EARLIER SCULPTURE BY SIGMUND ABELES At the Brush Art Gallery, 256 Market Street, Lowell, through November 29.

The people who populate Sigmund Abeles's 32 paintings, drawings, and prints on view at the Brush Art Gallery seem tangible and relaxed, as though we found them experiencing an unguarded moment. We are drawn to these characters because of the artist's uncanny capacity to breathe life into every crayon mark or brush stroke.

The key to Abeles's work is his intimate knowledge not only of his subjects (often friends and family), but of his chosen mediums. The immediacy of drawing with pencil and pastel crayon demands competence and rewards excellence to the artist who has mastered the techniques. Abeles's abilities are so keen that we do not at first realize which medium he is using to capture the essence of a particular sitter. Instead, we are drawn to the facial features and body language of people like Rene and Tyrone.

The subjects, two self-absorbed three-quarter portraits, introduce us to these denizens of New York. Then we see a full-color, full-face pastel of a thoughtful Tyrone, and we get the strong impression that we know what he is thinking. For there, floating above his head, is an ethereal sketch of Rene. A view of Rene in exaggerated foreshortened perspective, brings to mind Edouard Manet's 1864 painting Dead Toreador. Fortunately, Rene is just asleep.

Abeles finally links these two together in an odd visual arrangement. We see a nearly life size pastel of Rene sitting on a stool in a contemplative mood, while beneath her and to the rear is a partially obscured reproduction of Tyrone's original three-quarter portrait. We are left to draw our own conclusions regarding the principals.

After we have marveled at his consummate technical skills in manipulating light and shade with tactile line and color, we discover the narrative, which Abeles sets up in each situation, making works so captivating. One of the most enigmatic works is Too Many Lessons. The life-size central figure is a nubile female nude upside-down on a stuffed chair with her hands covering her face. Floating in the tremulous space above her are sketches of a horse and a woman (her?). What produces the sense of mystery is the three-panel predella at the bottom that contains images of a little girl giving a violin recital, then taking a bow. The third panel shows a nude woman talking on the phone apparently oblivious to the naked man with a horse head. Could this be a reference to the ancient Egyptian god Set, a hairy male with the head of a donkey, who was reviled as the incarnation of all that is evil? We are indeed left to wonder what we have witnessed.

Another enigmatic work is The Handout. Produced in luscious oils, a nude female, tattooed and pierced, sits disjointedly in an overstuffed chair regarding a tiny man on stilts giving out handbills. A memento mori is above her head, a guy sleeping one off lies below her, and birds peek from within their coops. The work is a colorful feast for the eyes, but at the same time, the images boggle the mind.

Two pastel drawings from Abeles's "Innocent Red" series show this particular model in completely different attitudes. In one, she is caught in a reflective moment clutching a pillow. In the other, she languidly reclines in an opulent sofa. Here Abeles's use of sensitive and sensuous line articulates the young woman's body. Blue and pinkish colorations lend a translucent tone to her skin in sharp contrast to her wildly flowing fiery red hair. All of this guileless sensuality is further enhanced by the artist's attention to the girl's hands and feet.

The most fascinating work on display almost didn't make it into the show. Abeles worked right to the deadline to finish Almost Snapping Her Fingers. This orange pastel drawing offers a nude female drawn with the economy of line employed by Ingres or Archipenko. With a few dynamic strokes Abeles animates his subject in a provocative pose that cannot be easily dismissed. The kicker is that as she dances for us, she does so while negating the picture's title, for on close inspection there are no fingers to be snapped. It is the little quirks such as this that set Abeles's work apart from other figurative or realist schools and into a singular niche of its own.

The gallery is open Tuesday through Saturday from 11 a.m. to 4 p.m. and Sunday from noon to 4 p.m. Call (978) 452-7819.

Thirty additional works by Sigmund Abeles are on display at the Whistler House Museum of Art, 243 Warren Street, Lowell, through November 15. Call (978) 452-7641.